


breakfast at twilight

by narcissae



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Making Out, Kevin/Riko is in the past, M/M, Nicky Hemmick is a good boy, Open Relationships, Wrong Name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 07:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11143491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissae/pseuds/narcissae
Summary: Nicky wonders if it might be better to just pretend like he’s too drunk to remember the night.He nurses his coffee hunched over the counter, and mulls over the possibility of just pretending like Kevin didn’t have his hands all over him at Eden’s, and then didn’t have him pinned to the door of his room as soon as they were in the house, and how good that had felt - he’s going to tell Erik, of course. He would never dream of not telling him.





	breakfast at twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Nicky/Kevin is my special kind of rarepair that I love. This fic mentions past Riko/Kevin, and has Kevin trying to come to terms with some things about himself.

Nicky wonders if it might be better to just pretend like he’s too drunk to remember the night. It’s certainly a tactic he’s employed before. Playing dumb has become his especial forte, especially living with Aaron and Andrew. He has to pretend to be oblivious to most things, for their sake.

He nurses his coffee hunched over the counter, and mulls over the possibility of just pretending like Kevin didn’t have his hands all over him at Eden’s, and then didn’t have him pinned to the door of his room as soon as they were in the house, and how good that had felt - he’s going to tell Erik, of course. He would never dream of not telling him.

The arrangement that allows this long distance to work, only functions with full disclosure. There is an element of openness to it - an allowance for the occasional quick kiss, a grope and grind on the dance floor. Nicky would never dream of abusing that. He knows Erik has been with a few boys beside him - a night on the town with a guy from his seminar, and a dinner with a colleague at the office where he interns. And of course he;s always told Nicky after, and Nicky trusts him. Implicitly.

But this is different. This is Kevin Day, and Nicky has dreamed of kissing him since the day he took an active interest in exy. And Kevin comes with his own level of emotional investment that none of his previous dalliances have had. Because Nicky cares about Kevin. And he isn’t sure that care is reciprocated in the same way.

He’d thought it was a wet dream coming true. Him and Kevin, both drunk - and hey. He gets that. He needed to be drunk the first few (many) times that he kissed boys. He won’t judge. He lets Kevin grind on him on the dance floor, filthy and unexpected, his warm hands palming Nicky’s hips through his tight jeans, easily dwarfing him with height and muscle mass. He lets Kevin touch their foreheads, and studies his lashes in the neon lights of the club.

He lets Kevin put an arm around his shoulders, and takes his weight as they stumble into the house, and into Nicky’s room, and he lets Kevin pin him to the door. kevin’s eyes are hazy. He leans down, and Nicky leans up.

He’s stopped by a hand splayed flat on his chest “wait, waitwait,” Kevin is slurring, struggling for words. “Erik - erik, what about erik?”

“If I’m not worried you shouldn’t be worried,” Nicky sayd. He feels floaty and nice. Kevin is kissing him, and he is solid and good.

They stumble on Nicky’s bed- still unmade from the weekend before. Nicky had thought that this was new to Kevin, that he’d never done this before, but he moved like someone who’s spent a good amount of time on drunken hookups.

Kissing him felt like being on fire.

His hands were so good, so everywhere and then Kevin, mouthing at the exposed line of Nicky’s neck, leaving a trail of marks, as though he was determined to devour him, said the one word that ruined everything, said “Riko”, while his hand was moving to undo Nicky’s jeans.

He hadn’t heard at first. Until the second time.

“Stop.” Nicky says, but his voice doesn’t quite work. He feels tears stinging his eyes. “I said stop, stop stop stop.” Kevin had already stopped, but it wasn’t enough so then he shoved Kevin off him quicker than he’d ever done anything else in his life. A sober Kevin might have asked where these reflexes go when he’s on the court. But this drunk Kevin tumbles on the floor, and blinks up at him, hurt and confused.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Nicky says. What a fucking mess. “Sorry, I just -” he makes a helpless motion with his hand. He stands up from the bed, and pulls the duvet with him. “I think I better sleep on the couch.”

Kevin doesn’t try to stop him. Nicky hears him move himself to the bed through the closed door. God. What was he even thinking?

It might be better to pretend like he doesn’t remember. They’d all had so much to drink, and took dust, and of course Nicky took a pill off of Roland’s mouth in his break - nothing too bad, just something to make him feel good, give him a little boost and -and so he doesn’t remember. He won’t remember. He won’t bring it up if Kevin doesn’t.

His coffee has cooled in his hands, so he pops in the microwave, right as Kevin walks in.

He forces a smile on his face, and puts two slices of wholegrain toast in the toaster.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, and is grateful that his voice sounds normal. He pulls out a container of soy milk, and checks the date. He likes to keep some stuff around the house, for hangover food. Andrew hates the texture of dairy milk.

“Nicky,” Kevin starts. it’s his serious voice. The voice he used when he told them how Riko broke his hand. It seems like Riko broke a whole lot more than that.

“No, Kevin,” he wants to kill this conversation before it’s started. “It’s okay. Just. Don’t say anyhting, okay?”

He might cry if Kevin tries to explain himself. He might say something stupid like are you using us a as a cheap composite substitute for Riko - Andrew’s violence, Aaron’s cold dry presence and Nicky’s - what? his willingness? DYI-ing himself a replacement for his number 1?

“Just - Nicky. Let me explain.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Kevin,” he says kindly. “We were both drunk, and high. It’s okay. You think I’ve never been called the wrong name before? I used to get with my high school team captain and he - well he was dating one of the cheerldears, right so he - he called me Linda sometimes and -” his voice falters. He’s trying to make this better the only way he knows how, by filling all that awful silence with the sound of his voice.

The toaster pops, and Kevin looks heartbroken.

Nicky takes the bread out, and sets it on a plate. One for him, and one for Kevin.

“I do,” Kevin says quietly. He breathes out. “Me and Riko… Well. I guess you’ve put two and two together now or. Well. Two and one.”

Nicky shrugs. “You don’t have to explain anything,” he repeats, but Kevin ignores him.

“It was ugly. A lot of the time. And - well. No one knew. Jean didn’t know.” he says it like it’s very significant.

“Does Andrew know?” Nicky asked, trying for casual and failing.

“No. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t – “ he grapples for words. “I don’t think Andrew will understand.”

No. Nicky doesn’t think so either.

“But that’s not what I wanted to say,” Kevin continutes.

He looks physically pained, so Nicky pushes his tepid coffee his way, and their fingers brush when Kevin accepts the cup.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted. You didn’t deserve it from me. Or from anyone, really. I know we were drunk. But I just –“

Nicky doesn’t think he can handle hearing any more of this. He’d rather Kevin just stop speaking altogether. He gets it, okay? He gets it. Kevin was high and drunk, and equal measures of horny and lonely, and Nicky was there, and it’s not like he minded-So what if Kevin did his own version of calling him Linda. Better to have all the cards on the table, right?

“It wasn’t because we were drunk,” Kevin said carefully. “I’ve been- meaning to. Talk to you.” His sentences come out short and clipped. This is an unrehearsed speech. He comes in uprepared and raw and bleeding. He’s so used to knocking on locked doors with his broken hand.

Nicky has every right to tell him that he’s an asshole and he should fuck off from his sunlit kitchen. He’s not just an asshole, he’s a coward. He wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t know what he was doing. How good it felt to kiss Nicky, how different it was from kissing Riko, and how similar in the way he pulled Kevin on top of him. Getting lost in the moment. Losing the moment.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. That’s why the media always preferred Riko. He knew what to say. Even unrehearsed, but Kevin’s words are failing him.

What would Riko say?

Kevin can picture him leaning on the counter, with the quintessential cup of tea, in a threadbare jersey he sleeps in, looking at him over the rim of the mug, not yet fully awake, smiling his wicked smile. He offers no apologies, and is gone with the next blink of Kevin’s bleary eyes, leaving him to deal still with the mess he’s made out of Nicky.

But Nicky doesn’t want to hear it, and Kevin has to make him listen.

“I wanted this,” he tries again. “With you. Not just… not just when we’re drunk.”

Nicky looks astonished, eyes widening, and his gasp is audible.

“I know – I know that you’re with Erik. And I also … I also have someone – Thea –but you’ve said that you and Erik have – “

“Kevin.” Nicky interrupts softly. “You’re hung over. We can talk about it later, okay?”

It’s not an outright dismissal, and he can be happy with that. Nicky nudges the plate of toast towards him.

“If that’s your idea of breakfast, you’re a terrible cook.” Kevin says, and Nicky smiles at him, and things are okay.


End file.
